"Absence makes the heart grow fonder." And sadder, and more weary, and
lonelier. Cervantes didn't mention those.
With each passing day, my heart grows heavier. She's been missing for six months now, her 48 hours are long past. The trail is cold, we have no new leads.
People keep telling me to move on, to accept that she's gone, but I can't. I know she's got a snowball's chance in Hell of ever making it home, but I have to keep hoping. "Faint heart never won fair lady-" well faint is the one thing my heart will never be.
It isn't easy, slogging through the muck and mire of grief and doubt that gets piled outside my office door, but this is my life now and it will be until she comes home
Sometimes I think it would be easier to cave to popular opinion and finally bury my heart. When that happens, I pull out a picture of La Superica and imagine us eating there together. That image alone is enough to get me through the toughest times.
No one understands. They chide me about hiding in the past but I'm actually living in the future-our future.
With each passing day, my heart grows heavier. She's been missing for six months now, her 48 hours are long past. The trail is cold, we have no new leads.
People keep telling me to move on, to accept that she's gone, but I can't. I know she's got a snowball's chance in Hell of ever making it home, but I have to keep hoping. "Faint heart never won fair lady-" well faint is the one thing my heart will never be.
It isn't easy, slogging through the muck and mire of grief and doubt that gets piled outside my office door, but this is my life now and it will be until she comes home
Sometimes I think it would be easier to cave to popular opinion and finally bury my heart. When that happens, I pull out a picture of La Superica and imagine us eating there together. That image alone is enough to get me through the toughest times.
No one understands. They chide me about hiding in the past but I'm actually living in the future-our future.